But Angel remained uncharacteristically quiet. Calculating her next move maybe.
“You can’t just pretend this isn’t happening, that you aren’t destined for this,” Jeb said. I detected a note of frustration in his voice. Good. “The Gen 77 kids need you, whether you acknowledge them or not. Don’t you think it makes sense for you to see them? To know them?”
Angel stood up. Here we go, I thought. “Max doesn’t want to go, Jeb,” she said. “So we’re not going.”
Did she—did she say we’re not going? I glanced at her, and she gave me a sweet smile, just like the old days.
“Yeah,” said Dylan, coming to stand behind me. “Max leads the flock. If she doesn’t want to go, then we don’t go.”
It would have been churlish to remind Dylan just then that he wasn’t part of my flock.
Jeb and Dr. G-H looked like they wanted to tear their hair out.
“Well, you know, I wouldn’t mind seeing the Gen 77 kids.” I looked up as my mom stepped forward. Come again? “Just see them.” She smiled at me apologetically. “I know how you feel, Max,” she went on, noticing the shock twisting my face, “and I don’t blame you. But as a scientist, I have an insatiable curiosity. And I think we need to see some of this new generation, whether you lead them or not. We need to know what’s going on out there. It’s for our own good.”
I sighed, beaten. Oh, like I’m gonna tell my mom no?
11
THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT flying that helps clear the cobwebs from my mind, puts everything into perspective, and makes me feel strong and powerful. And often I can leave annoying people behind on the ground. Always satisfying.
This day, I had left the annoying people in Jeb’s airplane, trapped inside a little tin can, while I flew free, chilly air filling my lungs, about two hundred feet away from them. The plane was small, a fancy corporate jet, and everyone—the flock, my mom, Dr. Gub-Hub, the blond DNA donor, and of course Jeb—had opted to travel the easy way.
One odd thing about flying today: the cobwebs weren’t clearing out of my head. Instead, my mind was clouded with misgivings as we flew low over the Arizona mountains. I had not
promised to lead the Gen 77 kids. This was a look-see only. I mean, who am I? Joan of Flock? I had my hands full with my own
family, my own
Oh, I see something, Angel thought at me. (She’s the only one of us who can project thoughts into other minds at will.) At two o’clock.
I looked, and when I squinted, I could see buildings with camouflage netting, in shades of tan and green and brown, over them. Which made them almost impossible to detect from the air. Unless you had super birdkid raptor vision.
Yeah, got it, I thought. Well, let’s go down and see what we can find out. But way deep inside, I was thinking that maybe I would just hang back, be on my guard, not get sucked into a trap.
Then I remembered that Angel could read minds and that I couldn’t actually keep some thoughts deeper inside my head than others.
Crap.
I sped up, leaving the plane behind, and concentrated on the ground, scanning the area a good distance out. I saw no vehicles, no—
I don’t know what made me look up at that moment, but I did, and suddenly, not fifty feet in front of my face, was a huge, clear—jellyfish? I was going almost three hundred miles an hour, and I plowed right into that sucker.
12
IT WAS LIKE hitting a squishy balloon. Going as fast as I was, I sank deep into it, as if I’d hit a bouncy castle face-first and vertically. My head was pressed against a thick, smooth film, and for several horrible moments I had the feeling of being smothered, my wings bent painfully back. Then, boing! I bounced out of it, arms and legs flailing wildly, my stalled wings causing me to drop quickly before I could catch myself.
What the heck?!
It had literally bounced me back about sixty feet, and from this distance I could see that it was a huge, clear, weird thing. It was practically invisible, and I realized with shock that there were hundreds of these balloon-type things, each one as big as a city bus. They were all tethered to the ground below by hairlike, glistening metal wires.
Cautiously I got a little closer, and then zzzip! The tip of one of my wings brushed a wire, which sliced the ends off some of my primary feathers. It didn’t hit skin or bone, but it went through my feathers like they were tissue paper.
It seems the glistening was caused by diamond dust. These wires were designed to slice things—
I whirled, waving my arms at the jet, which was approaching fast, hoping Angel would tune in to my thoughts
Angel! Get Jeb to swerve! This place is booby-trapped!
Angel looked out the window at me, then rushed to the cockpit, yelling.
But it was too late—the plane flew right into the sea of wires.
Almost immediately, one of the engines sucked a balloon-type thing into its intake, and boom! There was a huge explosion and a fireball twenty feet across. The force threw me back, heat searing my face and wings. I backpedaled quickly as several other balloons exploded, tossing the jet to and fro.
Then the wires did to the battered, burned plane what they had done to my feathers. They sheared off the jet’s metal wings, like a hot knife through butter.
Can a plane fly without wings? Not so much.
13
FEAR GRIPPED MY HEART as the plane lurched forward, a silent, wingless coffin, the engines dropping earthward as the jet began to nosedive.
Angel pressed her scared face to a window, then was flung to the rear of the plane with the others as the fuselage started to spiral, falling faster, now practically vertical. Almost everyone I loved was trapped inside that metal tube of death.
I let myself drop close to the plane and landed on it with a thunk. I grabbed the door handle, bracing my feet against the side of the plane, but of course I couldn’t open the door from outside. In the cockpit, it looked like Jeb and Dr. Hans were shouting orders.
They had only seconds. I saw Dylan grabbing one seat after another, going hand over hand to reach the door below him.
Angel! Listen to me! I yelled inside my head. If the door opens, everything inside will be sucked out fast. Get the flock out first!
Inside the plane, Dylan lost his handhold and fell, then I saw a flash of Nudge hanging upside down, her eyes wide with terror.
Tell the others to let themselves be pulled out and away from the plane. Then Iggy and Nudge should try to grab Jeb. Dylan and Gazzy should grab Dr. Hans. You and I will grab my mom. We can do this! I was thankful that Ella was at school.
I heard someone pounding on the door from the inside, and suddenly it popped open and was ripped off by the force. Instantly, blankets, cups, seat cushions, books, anything that wasn’t tied down, whooshed out, a streaming mass of objects moving at deadly speed. A seat cushion whapped me in the forehead, snapping my head back, but I hunkered down and stayed close by.